Dentro Me
by ritsam
Summary: Birthday Fic for "Gabi2305". Sam's cursed by a demon/witch's spell and dying.The only cure can save the youngest's life,but where it is?Will Dean find it before it's too late? Hurt/limp/sick Sam, Pro/Worried Dean. *NOT A DEATHFIC*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N 1:- A special thanks to my awesome friend 'Mizpah' (from supernaturalville) for beta'ing this story for me. You're great Jules! *Hugs you tight***

**A/N 2: - 'Dentro Me' are Italian words, that mean-'**_**Inside Me**_**'. I got the idea from RyanDan's awesome song 'Dentro Me' and it fits well with this story; doesn't it?**

**A/N 3:- This is a special birthday fic for my awesome friend 'Gabi2305'.  
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**Hey Gabi,**

**~*~ WISH YOU A VERY HAPPY AND PROSPEROUS BIRTHDAY. (23****rd**** May) ~*~**

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**DENTRO ME**

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**Chapter – 1**

_**Present Time: - Home of Dr. Jacob Smith, Sioux City, South Dakota; 20**__**th**__** November, 2005**_

It was raining; heavy raindrops were splattering over the glass window, obscuring the view outside. A lonely figure was standing in front of the window, lost in thought. Once bright jade green expressive eyes were now looking dull. There was no spark of life, only a shadow of sadness glistening in those orbs.

The young man flinched as a loud peal of thunder crashed nearby and a sudden whitish light illuminated the whole room. Swallowing thickly, he somehow controlled himself from the urge to run to the upstairs bedroom where someone so close to his heart, who was afraid of thunder, was laying. Combing a sinewy hand through his cropped dark-blonde hair, he trailed his palm across his weary, stubbled face; somehow trying to wipe away all those tears that were falling unheeded down his cheeks. How could this happen to him? How could he do that to him? Why did he do that to him? He had just found him after two years separation, he had found his reason of living; his source of joy, his only true love in his unsettled lifestyle—his little brother, who was now slowly fading away from him.

Choking a little as a sob bubbled up inside his throat, Dean desperately tried to control his emotions but failed. Yes, he failed; failed to save his brother. He was a failure—**A Damn Failure**. He could not save his mother, could not even find his long MIA father and now, his brother was dying in front of his very eyes and he could not save him either.

"Damn it, Sammy."

A crashing sound filtered into the small confined room as a strong fist punched the window, breaking it into million little pieces.

Dean stared down at his handiwork; the broken pieces of glass scattered across the windowsill and the floor at his feet. Raindrops were now entering freely through the shattered window and wetting the interior of the room. A trail of thick blood flowed down from his injured right hand and dripped onto the floor, mixing with the growing puddle of rainwater. Dean was not feeling any pain, his wound was not stinging. The only pain he felt – the one that had been killing him from the inside out – was the truth that his brother was - _dying_.

A thudding sound of booted feet came towards the room, and Dean could tell without turning around who was coming. He and his brother were staying at the home of a doctor friend of Bobby's in Sioux City, after the horrible and unfortunate accident happened to Sam. Smirking bitterly at his own fate, Dean let his mind wander down memory lane to when the demon had gotten them and inflicted its virus upon his brother's body. Dean had tried to save him and kill that demon, but it wasn't easy.

"Damn it, Dean."

Flinching slightly, Dean turned his head a little as a somewhat pissed off annoyed familiar voice barked at his direction.

"What have you done?"

Mumbling something incoherently, Dean glanced at the mixture of blood and water splattered across the shards of glass with somewhat wild and glazed eyes. His bloodied hands were shaking, and he startled as Bobby's hand clasped his once proudly squared but now hunched shoulder. Dean looked at his surrogate father, his lips trembling…

"Sammy?"

Swallowing reflexively, Bobby closed his eyes for a moment, his heart heavy with grief. He just didn't know how to make the situation better. One of his favorite Winchesters boys was dying and the other, the older was getting ready for it. Whichever way he went, he was at the point of total loss.

"Dean, Sammy wants to see you," the elder hunter said gently, grasping the young man's bleeding hand.

Dean pressed his lips together hard until only a thin line was showing to suppress their quivering. Sniffling, he looked in the opposite direction, although his injured hand was still clasped in Bobby's.

"No. I won't. I…I can't, Bobby." A rebel teardrop spilled from his swollen, red-rimmed orbs.

"Dean…son…"

"Don't son me, Bobby." Dean's sudden angry voice boomed in the small, confining room, overriding the steady drumming sound of the heavy rainfall. "My brother's dying and our almighty father doesn't have time to come over here. We're nobody's son, Bobby. We're nobody's." Dean was now crying, free hand clamped on his mouth as he muffled, "We only have each other, now…now…he's…" Dean's voice hitched a little as he choked his own tears. "…Bo…Bobby!"

"Dean," Bobby tried to assure the obviously grief-stricken young man. Even though he knew what he was going to say would not be convincing; he tried anyway. "Sam's not gonna…"

"Yes, he is Bobby. Don't lie to me." Pulling his hand from Bobby's grasp, Dean wiped the blood on his outer shirt. Keeping his head bowed, Dean continued, "He knows that too, Bobby and…and…that's why he wants to see me." Another tear spilled from his eyes. "He wants to say goodbye. My little brother…," Dean's voice filled with raw emotion and sorrow, "…my Sammy wants to say f****** goodbye to me, damnit!"

Bobby didn't know what to say, how to console Dean. He knew what Dean had been saying was the truth.

"Dean, we're trying to find the cure. We just can't let him go, boy."

"But how?" Spinning on his heel, Dean faced the old bearded hunter and threw his arms in the air. "We tried everything. Every. Damn. Thing, Bobby. But…" Combing his left hand through his hair, he continued, "…she doesn't have any remains left. Nothing, Bobby." Biting his lower lip, he stared into space for a couple of seconds. "She was burned. Everything had burned. There was nothing left, nothing related to Sam and her."

Bobby opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted when the young nurse who had been attending Sam rushed into the room. He studied her slightly disheveled appearance and worried expression, and his heart began to race in panic.

"Maria?"

"Dean, Bobby," the young woman gasped. "It's Sam."

Dean's eyes went wide as he heard the frantic tone in the nurse's voice when she said Sam's name. Without wasting a second, he rushed towards the stairs, tailed closely by Bobby and Maria.

"What's wrong with Sam?" Dean asked as he rushed headlong towards Sam's room, taking the stairs two at a time.

"He…he can't breathe. Sam can't breathe. Dr. Smith is checking him and has him on oxygen, but his heartbeat is too slow and he's struggling for every breath." Swallowing nervously, Maria continued. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"**NO**." Dean screamed and spun so quickly to face the young woman that she almost ran into him. His eyes were wild like he wasn't in himself. Maria retreated until her back was pressed against the wall as Dean took a couple of large steps and grabbed her shoulders, giving her a little shake.

"No, you hear me? Just no! He's not gonna die. He is **NOT**. **GONNA. DIE!"**

"Dean! What are you doing?"

Dean backed off as Bobby's strong hands grabbed his chest from behind and pried the clearly disoriented and anxious young man off the poor nurse. Confining Dean in his strong embrace, Bobby easily subdued his struggles. "C'mon, boy, don't do this. Leave her alone."

Dragging Dean up on the stairs, Bobby spared an apologetic glance at the kind nurse, who was still standing speechless where Dean had cornered her. Sighing in relief when she nodded in understanding, Bobby gripped Dean's bicep and said, "Don't lose yaself, Dean. For Sam's sake, don't you dare lose now."

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Pushing the door open with a loud bang, Dean stormed into the room where his brother was currently laying on a bed in the far corner. Sam's upper body was slightly elevated so he could breathe a little easier, and an oxygen mask was covering his mouth. His attending physician, Dr. Jacob Smith, was fiddling with Sam's IV tube, but that wasn't Dean's main concern. All he could see was his little brother struggling to breathe, his chest heaving upward with each intake of fought-for breath. Long dark bangs were plastered against his sweaty forehead.

Dean seemed to have stuck to the ground upon seeing his baby brother on his death bed. His lips were moving but nothing other than a sob came out of his perched mouth. Forcing his rubbery legs to propel him weakly toward the bed, Dean felt his entire body go numb as he flopped down beside his brother and picked up one of Sam's limp cold hands, holding it in his. Rubbing his fingers softly over the smooth tanned skin of his brother, Dean whispered, "Sammy?"

A tiny but sad smile ghosted across Dean's lips as a pair of eyelids fluttered partway open to reveal those once expressive but now glazed pain-filled green hazels. Sam's eyes immediately fixed on Dean's face, his fingers curling into his brother's palm as his lips moved soundlessly.

Dean leaned a little towards his sibling's face, trying to understand what his brother was trying to say.

"What is it, Sammy?"

Sam closed his pale eyelids for a moment and heaved slightly. It was getting harder to draw a proper breath. He could feel his time was coming to an end; the demon-witch had zapped her curse on him, declaring that he would die within a week. And, Sam gasped softly as if thinking had been making him exhausted; today was the seventh day. Sam knew Dean had tried to save him; had tried to find the cure, but failed. And it wasn't his fault, although Sam knew Dean had been blaming himself for his condition.

Dean thought that his brother had once again drifted into sleep, but frowned when Sam opened his eyes again. Licking his chapped lips, Sam weakly raised his IV line-inserted arm and tapped lightly on his oxygen mask, indicating for Dean to remove it from his face.

"No Sammy. You need it." Dean grasped Sam's arm carefully but firmly and shook his head.

"I…ahhh…" Sam tried to talk but the mask was blocking his voice. He needed to tell something to his brother, and he didn't have much time left. It was important that he pass the information to Dean, otherwise more young people like himself who had already lost a loved one…would die soon like he was going to. The demon-witch was still outside; wandering freely and she needed to be stopped, permanently. Jessica had told him…

A rebel teardrop fell from his eye and trickled down to his temple as he remembered his beloved dead girlfriend who had come to him in his dreams, imparting to him the news he had to give to his brother.

Seeing Sam becoming so distressed panicked Dean. He could sense something was off and his little brother was trying to tell him something. But, he knew that Sam needed the artificial help to breathe. Nervously, Dean looked at the kind middle-aged doctor who, along with Bobby, was also watching the fragile young patient with concern.

"Doc," Not exactly knowing what he should do, Dean called the doctor hesitantly. "Is that okay if we take that mask off for a minute?" Green orbs again wandered towards his little brother's pale, almost waxen face. "It won't hurt him, will it?"

Dr. Smith swallowed nervously; not knowing what to tell the overprotective big brother when he knew it would not take long before the youngest one stopped breathing. He had never handled a patient like Sam before, even though he knew everything about hunters, hunting things, demons, witches, curses and cures – every single damn thing. That had been the reason the older Winchester boy had brought his cursed, almost dying younger brother to him the day before yesterday, along with his friend Bobby Singer.

Young Sam Winchester had been suffering from a heart condition, but shockingly there was no trace of any inflammation, cardiac disorder or anything else that could manage to cause an attack or organ failure. His heart was getting weaker with each passing day and the only pain Sam had been feeling was a burning sensation that seared through this sensitive organ. This was not any medical disorder; Jacob had done every possible test on the poor boy but found none, except excessive 'bradyarrhythmia' that had been slowing his pulse down at a frightening rate.

The doctor gave the extremely sick young man the anti-arrhythmic drugs through the intravenous and other usual medications, though his condition kept deteriorating fast. Sam had started having trouble breathing that afternoon, so Jacob had to put him on an oxygen mask instead of the usual nasal canula. But still, the more time was passing by, the more the littlest Winchester's chances of surviving were growing thin, and now he was fighting for every tiny breath, instead of being able to take whatever comfort they were trying to give him. The oldest hunter and the doctor could see that Sam did not have much time left, it was only a few hour to midnight and according to that witch's curse, Sam would die within this time span. It would not hurt the boy more than he already was if he were to take the mask off for a few minutes.

"Okay, Dean. We could take his mask off for a while." Dr. Smith walked toward his young patient's bed and unfastened the mask straps, placing it beside Sam's pillow. Turning towards Dean, he spoke again, "Make sure he doesn't stress himself. A little excitement can cause fatal harm." Looking at Sam, whose eyes were half mast now and breathing extremely shallow, Jacob let his fingers brush the boy's unruly chocolaty brown bangs. Sighing sadly, he stepped away from the patient's bed and looked at Dean who was now distractedly staring at his little brother, tears shimmering on the edges of his eyelids.

"We'll leave you boys for some time."

Getting no response from the older Winchester, the doctor spared a glance towards Bobby who nodded in acknowledgement and gestured him to leave the room, allowing the boys some privacy.

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"Sammy?"

Dean asked softly, trying not to startle his extremely sick brother yet fearing that Sam had fallen asleep. Over the last three days, the one fear that had been nagging him inside was that if Sam fell asleep, he might not wake up again. _**'No, no, no, no negative thinking…'**_ Shaking his head vigorously, he repeatedly brushed his brother's hair.

A small but genuine smile ghosted across Dean's lips as Sam's eyelids tugged open slowly, revealing slits of beautiful hazel green orbs.

"D'n?"

Sam's voice was almost inaudible.

Leaning a little closer to his brother's face, Dean answered while gently taking Sam's left hand into his.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm here." His voice broke as tears threatened to fall. Swallowing quickly, Dean somehow managed to dismiss his sorrow, eliciting a crooked 'Dean-Winchester-trademark' smile. "Your awesome big brother's here."

Sam tried to take a deep breath, wincing as this little act stressed his already weak heart muscle. He felt Dean's hand immediately start rubbing his left pec in a soothing motion.

"Dean." This time, Sam's voice sounded a little stronger than before.

"What is it, Sam?"

"I…I'm…ss…sorr…sorry."

"What?" Dean frowned. _**'Yes, this is the typical Sam Winchester manner. Always feels sorry for whatever happens.'**_ Thinking wryly, Dean pressed Sam's cold hand against his own cheek. "What are you saying sorry for? You haven't done anything wrong, brother." _**'**__**It's me who couldn't save you from this curse. It's me who should'a been sorry for every damn thing. It's me who broke his promise that he made to his father to protect Sammy. It's me who has failed **__**his one and only job.'**_

Sam's lower lip was trembling now; dozens of emotions were playing across his young, innocent face. He had so much to tell his big brother, to apologize for; but sadly…there was not much time left.

"Ahh…I…"

"You what, Sammy? You what?"

Dean could see that his brother wanted to say something more than he was sorry.

"It…in…uh…in…" Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam gasped as a piercing, burning sensation almost ripped his heart apart.

Seeing his brother in agony, Dean leaned closer and gently cradled Sam's neck in his palm while his other arm wrapped around Sam's waist. Pulling his brother slightly towards his chest, Dean started rocking him like he used to do when Sammy was little.

"'S okay Sammy. I gotcha', I gotcha' little brother. Everything's gonna be alright. Big brother's here Sammy. Sam, you'll be okay."

Sam's head was now resting in the crook of Dean's neck, long pale arms were draping over his big brother's shoulder, embracing him like a human necklace. Dean's left palm buried into Sam's thick wavy hair and his other hand was supporting the younger man's back.

"Sammy?" Dean whispered.

"In…inside…ahh…me…" Sam's voice was getting fainter as time was running out on him.

"What?" Dean's breathed hot on Sam's neck as his brother spilled something completely out of nowhere. "What are you talking about Sammy? What's inside you?" Fearing his little brother was getting delirious due to the pain and talking insane, Dean tightened his grip around him and buried his face in Sam's neck.

Getting no immediate response from his brother, Dean shook him gently.

"Sammy?"

"Uh…"

"Sammy, talk to me. Please, Sam."

"Save 'em."

"Save who, Sam?"

A chill of fear gradually crept through Dean's veins – Sam was talking nonsense.

"Others…stop…witch…ahh…cure…uh…"

'_**Cure?'**_ Dean pulled his head from Sam's neck and held his brother's lolling face between his hands. Brushing a soothing palm on Sam's face, he shook him again.

"Sammy, hey hey, what're ya talking about? You know the cure? Where it is?"

Sam's eyes were closed, mouth hanging agape, tiny puffs of ragged breaths dispensing through his nose and open mouth. His chest was hitching with each inhalation.

"Don't wa…wan'a go D'n…Jess tol' me…inside me…you take it…kill the…uh…witch…save…save…" Without warning, Sam head dropped backward as he stopped mumbling all of a sudden.

"Sammy?" Dean's eyes were rolling from right to left in their sockets, as Sam suddenly stopped talking and his body went limp.

Dean patted Sam's cheek lightly, trying to rouse the young man from his stupor, but failed. Looking at the wall clock, Dean noticed that it was only 10 p.m. _**'Only two hours left, have to save Sammy…'**_ Dean was mumbling incoherently.

"Sammy, wake up. Please Sam, wake up."

But the younger boy remained unresponsive, limbs jerking with each shake as his big brother tried to bring him back from the pit of unconsciousness. Eyes blurred with tears, Dean failed to detect whether his brother was breathing or not.

Dean cupped his little brother's chin and frowned, feeling something warm and sticky dripping onto his palm.

"Nosebleed?"

'_**Internal hemorrhage.'**_

'_**Sam's dying.'**_

'_**Take care of your brother.'**_

'_**You can't kill me, but it will kill your brother within seven days.' **_

'_**Nothing left. Everything's burned.'**_

'_**Don't wa…wan'a go D'n…'**_

'_**Only few hours left.'**_

'_**Sam's gonna die. You couldn't find the cure in time.'**_

'_**Inside me.'**_

'_**Inside me.'**_

'_**Inside me.'**_

A million thoughts of previous incidents and conversations flooded over Dean's senses. He hugged Sammy's limp body more tightly to his chest and cried…

"**SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM!**"

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**TBC**

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**Before you all shoot me, I want to tell you something. I **_**DO NOT**_** write Deathfics/Wincest/Adult theme etc etc. I DO NOT. I'm not Kripke and we all love our Sammy too much to kill him, don't we! I'm just messing with him again, and believe me…This is just the BEGINNING. **

**Tell me what you girls think is gonna happen next? Will Dean find the cure? What is the cure? I've left enough hints…just find the clue and let me know…Sherlock Holmes! (LOL)**

**Reviews are love. You girls love me too, don't you? **

**Thanks for reading, Ritu.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Special thanks to my two beta editors- Vonnie (my sweet big sis) and Jules (my sweet sarcastic friend). You two are my lifesavers. **

**A/N:- ****I want to thank everyone ****who reviewed, sent me a message, or put this story on alert.****Your support is overwhelming, inspiring and very much appreciated.**

**A/N:- *HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY TO ALL MY FRIENDS, READERS AND REVIEWERS* **

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**Dentro Me**

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**And death shall have no dominion.  
Dead mean naked they shall be one  
With the man in the wind and the west moon;  
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,  
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**They shall have stars at elbow and foot;  
Though they go mad they shall be sane,  
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;  
Though lovers be lost love shall not;  
And death shall have no dominion.**

_** -Dylan Thomas**_

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**(Two weeks earlier)**

**5****th**** November, Palo Alto; California:-**

'_**Jess, you home?' Sam asked quietly as he entered their shared apartment. It had been a rough night and the confrontation with the dead chick or so-called 'woman in white' had really left him bone tired. After Dean dropped him off at his apartment, Sam clumsily stepped inside after unlocking the door with the spare key, hoping to see that Jessica had waited up for him to return.**_

'_**In the bathroom.' **_

_**Sam already heard the shower was running and smiled upon hearing Jessica's sweet voice, twin dimples forming on his handsome face. He shook his head and shrugged his duffel off his shoulder when he heard again Jessica's voice, '…be out in a minute.'**_

'_**A'right,' Sam muttered tiredly and took a cookie from the table. Jessica made those delicious snacks only for him because to Jess, Sam was a 'cookie monster'. Stealing a glance at the small note written by his girlfriend 'love you, miss you', he took a bite of the snack and flopped down onto the bed on his back. He inhaled deeply in relaxation and smiled again when he heard the bathroom door lock open with a click and the soft sound of bare feet padding on the floor.**_

_**Sam opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. It was clean, the soft blue hue of the night lamp illuminating the silent room. Turning his head slowly towards the sound of footsteps, he opened his eyes to mere slits. A very familiar shadow was moving in the middle of the room, tiptoeing actually with the intention to startle someone.**_

_**A crooked smile once again ghosted over Sam's handsome face and suddenly he shot up and grabbed the shadow around the waist. A feminine squeal filled his ears, followed by a heartfelt giggle. Sam laughed contently and pulled his girlfriend to the bed.**_

'_**So, what were you trying to do with me Jess? Smother me?' Sam asked teasingly. Jessica was looking beautiful in her white nightgown, he thought to himself.**_

_**Jessica gasped softly and clamped a hand to seal his lips. 'Don't say that Sam. I could never hurt you. I would rather die first.'**_

_**Sam nodded apologetically once he realized he made Jess concerned with his innocent teasing. He grabbed her hands and looked at her, using his most dewy sensitive gaze. 'I'm sorry Jess. I was just kidding with you.'**_

'_**I know.' Jess whispered and touched his face. 'Did you miss me, Sam?'**_

'_**Like flowers miss their fragrance,' Sam pulled Jessica's face close to his and whispered, 'I missed you like that.'**_

_**Jessica's face beamed as she pressed a light kiss on Sam's lips. Sam closed his eyes and deepened the kiss with such pleasure. 'God, Jess smells so sweet, but…' he frowned as a weird burning stench mixed with a coppery scent hit his nostrils, '…what's that?' He tried to break the embrace but Jessica didn't let him go. **_

_**After a long passionate kiss, Sam pulled himself off her and panted, feeling suddenly breathless. With eyes still closed, he leaned his forehead against Jessica's and murmured, 'I love you Jess.' **_

'_**Then why did you leave me alone, Sam?' Suddenly Jessica's tone changed to a resentful voice and Sam startled heavily. Before he could open his eyes, he felt the temperature of the room gradually begin to rise. Sam looked at Jessica with confused eyes and saw his girlfriend's calm but stony face. There was no more love, only resentment shimmering in her eyes.**_

'_**Jess, what…' Sam reached his hand to her but Jessica shied away from his touch. She stood up and turned her face from him. Sam got up too but felt disoriented as the atmosphere wasn't usual. The room became extremely hot and he was having difficulty breathing. With a futile but desperate try to shake the sensation away, Sam reached for his girl. '…what are you talking about? I never left you. I love you.'**_

_**Without warning, Jessica spun to face him and shoved him in the chest. Sam's balance faltered and he toppled back onto the bed. He felt a piercing pain in the chest where Jessica hit him, right where the 'woman in white' had clawed her nails viciously into his flesh, and gasped. Sam watched in bewilderment as Jessica's face contorted in anger and pain and she screamed. 'Then why did you let me burn alive Sam?' Jessica's entire body burst into flames and she cried, 'Why Sam?'**_

'_**Noo, Jess, nooo…NOOOO…JESS…' Sam tried to get up from the bed but he couldn't. The pain inside his chest was excruciating, and his back felt like it was glued to the mattress. He could see Jessica was burning, writhing… crying; but he couldn't move a limb to help her. He cried as he watched Jessica's body blacken and wither, and the whole room started burning. The blaze was almost touching him; he was burning from the inside out with the pain and fire. There was no one to save him, no hands to embrace him…only fire, the smell of heavy smoke and burning flesh engulfing him…**_

'_**JESSSSS…' He screamed his heart out but the only response was his dead girlfriend's resentful unnatural voice,**_

'_**Why did you let me die Sam?'**_

'_**Nooo, please…' Tears didn't fall from Sam's eyes because they had already been dried by the extreme heat.**_

'_**Why Sam?'**_

'…_**y Sam?'**_

'…_**Sam…'**_

"…am? Sammy? Wake up Sam. Sammy, please wake up little brother! SAM WAKE UP."

Sam gasped loudly as a pair of familiar strong hands jostled his shoulders. Opening his eyes, he found to his horror that he couldn't seem to see anything. All he could make out was a washed-out white blur as if he was drowning in the sea; and a searing burn in his sensitive skin. The smell of burning flesh…_**'Oh God, Jess…'**_ assaulted his senses and he grabbed his chest as an insufferable pain shot through his heart.

"Oh God Dean, help me. It hurts Deeeeeean…" Sam cried in pure agony, fisting a hand in his tee shirt right next to his heart, "…it hu'rs…"

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Dean was hovering between sleeping and wakefulness. He just could not sleep; after what happened three nights ago, he just could not. First the hunt for the woman in white, leaving Sammy at his apartment…then waiting for the nightmare he knew somehow would come true. Dean felt it in his gut that something would happen and it did. After dropping Sam off, he found he couldn't just leave. He ended up driving around for a while, but some uncanny feeling was nagging inside his heart. It was **_November 2_**, again. The day their mother had died that horrible death and the curses had begun. Dean had been warned before that something might come after his little brother that night and that was why he had been sent to save him, look after him. Sam didn't know that, he didn't have to. His father had ordered him not to tell Sammy anything about it; just take him from his place and protect him.

Dean had been stalking him since last week. He'd stayed hidden but watched every move his brother made. He saw how happy the younger boy had been; with his study, his girlfriend, lots of friends…Sammy looked content. On the day of Halloween, Sam had seemed happy though he didn't wear any whacko costume. Dean watched everything. He knew it would not last long. Sammy could not live like that. Dean had to take him away from this place because he knew—a storm was coming. His father had warned him and he had to save Sam, would have done it even if it hadn't been a direct order.

Then the cursed day came. It was predicted that exactly 22 years after the death of Mary Winchester, something was going to come after Sam. His life would change if he stayed alive. And at any cost Dean was not going to lose _his_ brother. The wise old psychic Missouri Mosley informed John Winchester and John ordered his oldest son. So Dean took him away from his fate; but he had never imagined that losing Jessica would be the cost. His heart ached for that innocent girl. She didn't do anything, know anything; she just loved Sam and had to pay the price by giving up her life…burning alive on the ceiling.

Dean shuddered with the memory and inhaled deeply…if he had been two minutes later, his brother would have…Dean shook his head vigorously on the pillow. How could he be so selfish! He saw a girl burned alive and he knew a demon was behind it, not any damn electric short circuit. But all he could think about was his brother. Yes, he was sorry that Jessica died but deep down he was glad that his brother was alive…well almost.

Dean had almost drifted back into sleep when suddenly he heard someone moaning. He frowned sleepily; annoyed by the sudden disturbance but when the moaning morphed into a guttural scream he shot up from his bed and scrambled out from under the blankets.

"No Jess, nooo, noo Jess…" the words were coming out from Sam's mouth and he was writhing in the bed. Dean quickly switched on the light and flew to his brother's side. Sam's eyes were still closed but moving rapidly beneath his eyelids. He was sweating like crazy and calling out for his not so long dead girlfriend Jessica.

Dean enfolded Sam's flailing hands in a tight grip so his brother would not hurt himself by his out of control movements. Desperately trying to wake the younger boy from his misery, Dean screamed, "Sam? Sammy wake up? C'mon, snap outta this, SAM!" He shook his sibling hard and was rewarded when a pair of hazel/green orbs suddenly shot open.

"Sammy?" Dean sighed in relief seeing Sam awake, but the feeling didn't last long when his little brother abruptly grabbed his chest and cried in pure agony, "Oh God Dean, help me. It hurts Deeeeeean…it hur's...ahhh…"

"What's wrong Sam?" Dean asked, swallowing nervously. He didn't like the way Sam was clutching his tee shirt next to his _heart_!

"Can't…ahh…can't br'the…" Sam gasped as he was suffering a full blown panic attack.

'_**Oh no, panic attack'**_ Dean quickly pulled Sam into a sitting position and rubbed his back. God, Sam had been suffering those major panic attacks almost regularly since Jessica died in that accident. Night after night Dean had woken up when Sam screamed and writhed onto the bed.

"It's okay Sammy, just breathe with me. In and out…yes…that's it…" Dean tried to calm his nightmare-disoriented brother using a soft soothing tone. He relaxed a little when Sam finally stopped shaking and sagged into his embrace.

"You feeling okay now, Sam?" Dean asked with concern as he pulled Sam a little higher so he could lean against the headboard.

Sam nodded but did not answer. His eyes were closed; pain lines were clearly visible on his pale, sweaty forehead. Dean frowned as he noticed Sam's left hand was still clutching the left side of his chest.

"Sammy, what's wrong?"

Not actually waiting for a response, Dean gently removed Sam's hand from its position on his chest and gasped in fear. There was blood on Sam's palm and also a smear of crimson on his tee shirt.

"Oh my God, Sammy?"

* * *

**2.16 a.m.**

Dean came out from the bathroom with a bowl of lukewarm water in his hands. He set the object on the nightstand between their twin beds and dipped a washcloth into the water. Casting a sidelong glance toward his sibling, he found the younger man sitting in the bed with bare torso, leaning against the stack of the pillows behind his back. Grimacing a little at the sight of the still leaking wound, Dean gently dabbed the washcloth onto Sam's chest, eliciting a small hiss from his somewhat injured brother.

"You didn't tell me that you were hurt, Sammy." Dean sounded a little pissed off, but mostly he was worried for his brother. "When the hell did you get that?"

"Ahh, Dean…" Rolling his head towards his big brother, Sam opened his eyes half mast and softly answered, "… It's okay. I'm okay now. It's just a flesh wound."

"Let me decide what it is or not, would ya?" Examining the wound closely, Dean asked, frowning, "Looks like claw marks." Putting some antibiotic cream on the five puncture marks around Sam's left pec, Dean asked with a confused voice. "How did you get that?"

Sighing, Sam answered softly, knowing he couldn't get away from Dean's constant pushing.

"Woman in White. She clawed me right before you shot her."

"And you're telling me now?"

Dean did not want to get pissed at his brother, but resentment was clearly showing in his voice._** 'How could Sam do something so stupid? He should have told me right away when he got hurt.'**_ Dabbing some antiseptic cream on the wounded area of Sam's chest, Dean recalled that night when they, well, defeated woman in white. He could remember how Sam had winced and then laughed when Dean playfully patted his chest, unknowingly hitting that exact spot. Wincing, Dean looked at his sibling who was now slumped limply onto the stack of the pillows, breathing a little erratically.

Getting up off the bed, Dean pulled out a clean short-sleeved tee shirt from Sam's duffel and handed to his brother.

"Put that on." Seeing Sam clumsily took the offered tee, Dean sat again on the edge of the bed and asked, "Umm…you wanna talk about it, Sammy?"

Careful to avoid meeting his sibling's questioning yet concerned gaze, Sam instead busied himself with pulling the garment over his shaking hands. He did not want to talk about this, not now, not ever. He knew that what Jess had told him in his nightmare was all true. He'd killed her, he'd killed Jessica. Sam could have warned her, could have saved her from the accident. But he did not, because he was too damn scared about what their goddamned family secret would have revealed to his mate; too afraid that she might not love him anymore once she found out. He was a coward. A damn coward.

Swallowing back a sob, Sam answered in a quiet, broken tone, "N-No."

"Sammy…" Dean's voice faltered as Sam interrupted quite urgently.

"Dean please, no. Not now. I…" Blinking back some wayward tears that were threatening to fall, Sam croaked, "…I don't…don't wanna talk about it."

"The dream was about Jessica, wasn't it?"

Dean knew these words would hurt Sam a lot, but he could not stand by and watch his brother suffering this much. He wanted Sam to talk to him, so Dean could console him; share his sorrow…embrace his brother's grief into himself. But Sam, although he was the more emotional member of the Winchester family, seemed like he was barricading the grief and pain deep inside. Sam was still blaming himself for what happened to Jessica, Dean could see that, but he didn't have any idea how to make thing better, make Sammy better.

As he expected, Sam did not answer.

Sighing, Dean dejectedly let the matter go, knowing full well Sam would not respond. Picking a bottle of pain reliever off the nearby nightstand, he handed two white pills to his brother. "Take 'em, it'll ease your pain."

Wordlessly, Sam took the pills. His chest still hurt, but after Dean tended the wound carefully, he was feeling a little better. After swallowing the medication, Sam eased himself again onto the mattress. Not wanting Dean to see his pain, he rolled himself onto his side facing the wall with his back at Dean, and closed his eyes.

A couple of minutes later, a firm hand lightly clasped Sam's shoulder and he startled, opening his eyes. That was his big brother, the typical Dean, always concerned for his little brother.

"It's gonna be okay Sammy. When you wake up, you'll see…" Dean's voice was thick with emotion, "…everything will be alright."

Tear spilled from Sam's eyes as he felt Dean's love through his gesture. _**'God, I've missed my brother.'**_ More teardrops trailed over the bridge of his nose and were absorbed into the white pillow**. **_**'Jess, oh God, Jess! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. It should've been me, not you. Not Mom either. It's me who was born cursed. It's me who let you die that horrible death, but you didn't let me go while I was dying. I'm sorry Jess. I'm so sorry.'**_

Dean secretly wiped a rebel tear away from his eyes as he heard his little brother's heartbroken sobs. His Sammy was broken; how the hell he was going to fix him! It had been three days, three long painful days since Sammy had withdrawn into himself, locked down tight in a self-made prison of grief and sorrow. And tomorrow…Dean sighed and slowly made his way towards his own bed. Flicking off the switch on the night-lamp, Dean rolled onto his side so he could watch his brother's back which was now vibrating rhythmically with each muffled sob.

'_**And tomorrow's Jessica's funeral. How I'm gonna hold Sammy through that?'**_

Pulling the blanket a little closer to his chin, Dean stared straight ahead. Moonlight was shining through the motel's cheap glass window, spilling over Sam's head and back like a soft silver blanket. Everything was looking so peaceful, so simple; but Dean knew tomorrow was going to be a completely different story, the most complicated day he'd ever have to go through in his life.

"Dad, where are you?" Dean mumbled too softly to be heard. "Sammy needs you, Dad. I need you." Sighing, he closed his eyes as sleep pulled him under, into a not-so-peaceful oblivion.

"Dad, we need you."

* * *

**TBC**

**

* * *

**

**Reviews are love! **

**Thank you, Ritu.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N 1:- I'm so so so very sorry for not updating this story for ages. I don't want to give excuses, just want to let you know, I haven't forgotten about this one and I'm going to finish it very soon. **

**A/N 2: - Gabi, I hope you're still with me, right! **

**A/N 3: - ****Special thanks to my two beta editors- Vonnie and Jules. You're awesome.**

* * *

**Chapter- 3**

* * *

"Two young students have died within three weeks. No injuries or any medical condition have been found. Their relatives said that they felt a little sick a couple of weeks ago and then, their hearts just stopped. Doctors haven't found any illness, any congenital problems, nothing."

Dean muttered as he was reading the article from the local newspaper. It sure looked like a supernatural killing; people just could not die of a freaking heart attack all of sudden, now could they?

"This is the fifth mysterious death in this city. One moment, they were well and healthy, and then they suffered a massive heart attack and died within a couple of days."

Pausing for a moment, Dean strained his ears hoping some answer would come across the room from his sibling, who was now standing beside the window lost in his own thoughts.

"Sammy, you even listening to me?"

No answer.

"Damnit." Swearing under his breath, Dean got up and shook his head in concern rather than annoyance. "This boy's gonna be death on me if he keep doing this."

Nudging his little brother's shoulder lightly, Dean waited for a response, not wanting to depress the kid any further by asking if he was all right. Because Dean knew, Sam was not alright.

"Wh-what?" Startling visibly, Sam stuttered and quickly wiped the tears from his eyes before turning around, hoping Dean would not notice.

Dean did, but said nothing about that.

"Are you back?"

"Didn't go anywhere, Dean," Sam softly answered.

"Sammy…"

"Dean please, I don't wanna talk about this. Not now," Sam softly begged, his eyes shining with unshed tears. _**'Not ever.'**_

Dean could not handle it anymore. It had been three days since Jessica died; three days that Sam had been grieving and it was almost killing him- Dean could see that. Sam was pale, hair messy and tangled. Dark circles around his expressive eyes seemed like permanent residents in his expressive features. Sam was fading away too- slowly _but _surely, and Dean could not let that happen.

"Damnit Sam…" Dean almost shouted making Sam flinch a little, but he did not care at that point, "… you can't keep doing this. This won't prove anything Sam, except one day you'll end up killing yourself." Grimacing at his own words, Dean clenched his teeth, and again softly said, "It wasn't your fault Sammy. You couldn't have done anything. And Jess knows that too…"

'_**Wh**__**y did you let me burn alive, Sam?'**_

Sam shuddered as the memory of his previous nightmare assaulted his fragile senses. Biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, he tried to control the flood of overwhelming emotion that was trying to burst out; but the memory kept tormenting him to death.

'_**Why Sam?'**_

'_**Why Sam?'**_

His chest was burning, but he liked it. He loved the burning feeling; that was his punishment for what he had done. _**'I deserve it, all I deserve is pain. **_

"Sam? You okay? Are you in pain?"

Sam didn't know when he had unconsciously put his left hand over his chest, where he felt the burn. Last night, he had given his big brother a hell of a scare; he did not want to repeat the action again. And it was not some kind of physical pain; it was in his mind…in his shattered heart.

'_**Dean doesn't deserve this. He deserves better and I haven't given anything except sorrow until now.'**_

"No, 'm alright."

Quickly dropping his hand away, Sam straightened himself up and changed the subject.

"So, what're we lookin' for?"

Feeling defeated, Dean let go of the sensitive subject for now and handed Sam over the newspaper cutting. "Mysterious deaths of young people, no reason that anyone can find. They were all physically healthy a week ago, but suddenly, their hearts just stopped."

"You think something supernatural is behind these deaths?" Sam arched an eyebrow while scanning at the newspaper.

"Yeah well, healthy people just don't die of heart attacks where they don't have any heart condition." Dean answered casually.

Chweing his lower lip, Sam muttered softly, "This's happening in Woodside every fourteen days."

"And tonight it will be two weeks since the last death."

"We gotta check this out now, Dean."

Dean hesitated for a moment, "Uh….umm… are you sure you're up for this?"

Dean watched as Sam's jaws tightened for a moment and his eyes glistened. He was having a hard time trying to control his emotion and pain, but he did it anyway.

"We just can't let another innocent person die, Dean. I let Jess go…" Swallowing thickly Sam turned around so his brother wouldn't have to see his weakness, "…I'm alright. I…let's go Dean."

Dean stared at his sibling's back for a moment and sighed. He could see Sam was building an invisible wall between him and the whole outside world. But at least, he wasn't grieving and that was nonetheless better than the breakdown he'd had last night.

'_**You're gonna be okay Sammy, I'll make sure of that. I'll make everything better.'**_ Mentally promising himself, Dean got up and joined his brother to pack their stuff.

* * *

**Woodside, CA; 6****th**** November**

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Curtis." The young reporter Sam Wentworth consoled the grief-stricken mother. The middle aged woman was weeping uncontrolably. Sam felt a sharp pang inside his heart. This poor mother had lost her only son just two weeks ago. Everything was still fresh in her mind.

"He was alright, you know. He had never suffered any major injuries. How could he die like that?" Mrs. Curtis sobbed hard as she was giving her statement to the two young reporters from some local newspaper agency.

"Uh, Ma'am…" Dean Jefferson stole a quick glance at his partner and asked the poor lady. "…what did the doctors say exactly?"

Wiping her eyes, Mrs. Curtis sniffled. "The doctors said they couldn't find any disease or illness that could cause his heart to block and stop permanently. He was a healthy kid, and…and… he had also been selected for police training. How could they select someone who might have a heart condition?" Her whole body was trembling. "Ever since Molly died, he'd been behaving strangely. He didn't eat or sleep properly. We thought, her death had affected him greatly. But... we should have…"

Dean narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Molly! Another heart attack victim? Your son knew her?"

"Yes, she was one of Peter's closest friends. The six of them used to hang out together all the time. And now…" Suddenly she hunched down and started to cry bitterly… "…five of them are gone. They all died, all died…"

Sam scooted closer to her and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder. He was about to say something when suddenly his eyes caught sight of a shape lurking outside the window. When their eyes met, the shadow quickly vanished from view.

Frowning, Sam got up from the couch and quickly opened the door. But apparently, there was no one there. He could hear Dean was asking the woman something, but he couldn't really concentrate on the conversation.

Sam startled as Dean touched his shoulder lightly. Spinning around, he encountered his brother looking at him with concerned eyes.

"You alright, Sam?"

"Yeah, yeah. Are we done here?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Thanking the woman for her time and information, both brothers headed silently towards the Impala.

"So…" Dean was the first to break the silence as they got into the Chevy and pulled away from the curb. "…what did you see?"

"I don't know Dean; I thought…someone was keeping an eye on us."

"Hmm… the plot thickens." Dean swerved the car swiftly to the left, "And the point is, the sixth member's still alive."

That got Sam's attention.

"What?"

"You heard the lady; there were six of them who used to hang around together all the time. And five of them are dead, starting with the girl called Molly."

Sam's eyes widened at that.

"You mean, a serial death's happening in this town?"

"Could be. I'm going to fish around at the other victim's house. You on the other hand…" Dean's voice cut off as Sam suddenly interrupted.

"Dean, pull over."

Dean pressed the brake pedal hard and the car came to an abrupt halt. He poked his head out of the car's window and saw they were sitting in front of a local college library.

"What?"

Sam wrenched the handle open and got out of the car. Closing the door softly, he jutted his chin in the library's direction. "I'm going to the library. See if I could find something. Pick me up in a couple of hours."

Dean sighed in relief when he realized that his little brother wasn't in any sudden danger, but just wanted to go to his sacred place. However sudden relief quickly turned to annoyance at his sibling for stopping him like that.

"Jeez, you're a geek."

Smiling half-heartedly at his brother's antics, Sam turned around and slowly walked toward the library.

* * *

Sam was standing between two huge bookshelves, holding a set of local newspapers dating back over the past couple of months. But he wasn't really concentrating. His mind was somewhere else and he was sure someone… someone had been stalking him continuously.

Sam quietly put the papers on the rack and stealthily moved to the other side of the aisle. Lunging forward suddenly, he surprised the lurker and grabbed the figure's arm in a tight grip.

"Who are you and why are you watching me?"

The girl squeaked in fright. She had never expected she would get caught like that.

"I…I'm sorry, just let me go."

"Who are you?"

"My…my name's Brenda."

"Why were you stalking us at Peter's house?"

"I…I…"

"What do you know?"

"I don't know anything. Let me go."

The girl tried to wrench her arm from Sam's grip but didn't succeed. She was almost going to scream but Sam clamped her mouth shut.

"Brenda, please. I'm not going to hurt you. I know you know something about something. Tell me, please."

Seeing the terrified girl calm down a little, Sam released her from his iron grip. After relaxing a trifle, Brenda looked at the handsome young man with teary eyes…

"Please help me. I don't wanna die."

Sam and Brenda sat face to face at the small cafeteria beside the library. After confessing to Sam that she might be in danger of getting killed for some reason, she broke down completely and Sam had a hard time consoling her.

"Why are you scared, Brenda? Who's going to kill you?"

Brenda sniffled miserably.

"Not who, it's a what."

Sam arched his eyebrow dubiously.

"What?"

"The thing that killed Peter, it's going to kill me too."

"But, Peter died of a heart attack, right?"

Brenda looked at him quizzically. Her wet eyes were filled with disbelief and suspicion.

"You're not a reporter, are you?"

That caught Sam completely off guard.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I saw you and your brother in a cafeteria couple of days ago. I don't think you even noticed me but I work at the café and heard you talking with a girl about her missing boyfriend. I also saw you were surfing on the net about the dead woman. You're not reporters; you don't dress or act like reporters and you guys drive a '67 impala!"

Sam's eyes widened at that. Only one word he could utter at that moment-

"Whoa!"

The girl continued. "Then today, when I was coming to Peter's house, I saw you guys talking with Aunt Martha. I know you guys sure know about something and that's why I was lurking."

"Whoa, I'm impressed." Sam genuinely appreciated her intuition. "Now tell me everything you know about these deaths, alright?"

Sighing, Brenda looked down at the small table and started stirring the spoon in the half filled coffee cup. Sam waited patiently.

"Brenda?"

"It's a witch that's killing the people. And…" Swallowing nervously, she looked at Sam with fearful eyes. "I'm the sixth victim and tonight, it's going to kill me."

"Okay!" Biting his lower lip, Sam asked, "How do you know it's something supernatural?"

"'Cuz… 'cuz we summoned it."

* * *

Sam listened carefully as Brenda started to tell him what had happened a couple of months ago.

"It started out of jealousy. The six of us used to hang around everywhere together. Our friend Steve had a crush on our high school cheerleader Stephanie but you know she had so many boys teetering around her. Steve had had this most competitive rival Josh, the jock of the school who also loved Steph. Steve knew that and he didn't like it, and always tried to catch Steph's attention. But you know, being a popular cheerleader, she had never paid much heed to Steve. But we all knew she had a soft spot for both of them, especially Josh. Steve couldn't tolerate that, and he became determined to make her love only him, somehow, anyhow."

Sam nodded at her as she continued to reveal the whole story.

"One day, he told us that he was going to make Steph his own and needed our help. He knew, by physical strength he would never win against Josh; so he needed something else. Our friend Molly knew this witchcraft thing and he asked her if there was some spell or something that could make her love him. Molly told us that there was something like that but it was quite dangerous. But he begged her and finally she agreed. She needed all of us to summon this love-witch _**'La Quorra'**_ who could have made the target love and give her heart to someone who wanted it. But…" She paused for a moment to hastily wipe away the tears that had begun to spill from her eyes, "… we never ever realized what could happen as a consequence. We were so excited about doing this unusual thing. It was like an adventure to us."

Sam watched as she quietly sipped her remaining already cold coffee.

"When we summoned the witch…" the girl shuddered at the memory… "It was made clear to us that if we failed to claim what we wanted, it would take our heart and soul as the winning trophies. And there was no going back after we summoned that thing. And we, all six who were involved to summon it, would be responsible for that." Licking her now dry lip briefly, the girl looked at Sam with sad eyes and continued, "And we succeeded. From the next day, Stephanie seemed to like Steve and start avoiding Josh. Josh at first was angry and tried to confront Steve but Steph came between them and told Josh that she loved Steve. Josh was at first dumbfounded but then he left angry and heartbroken. Steph looked a little confused about what was she doing, seemed like she didn't have any idea what the hell was going on. And then, that night…"

Brenda suddenly began to cry bitterly. "And then, that night Josh died in a car accident. Police said, he was drunk and driving out of control and then, his car hit a tree and got smashed. He was killed instantly." Sniffling miserably Brenda continued, "We never wanted that. We never wanted Josh to die. It was our fault that he died. And…and the most shocking thing was, Steph was devastated. She kept thinking Josh died for her and she killed him. We all knew she loved him and after she ditched him for Steve, Josh died. So, after a couple of days, she committed suicide. Her death hit us hard, especially Steve. But what we feared the most- the witch's warning. If we failed…" She sobbed hard, "… a week after Steph died, on the night of a full moon, Steve came to my house and told me he'd seen Steph's ghost and she touched his heart. He was so scared and told me that he was having a pain in his chest. The next day, he didn't come to school. When we called his home, his mother said he was admitted to the hospital for having a heart attack the night before."

"What?" Sam's breathing became shallow. What he heard was horrible. "A heart attack?"

"Yes." Brenda nodded ruefully. "After a couple of days, he died from a major heart attack. And then, the chain started. Those who were involved in this pact started to die one after another. And this happened on every fortnight. The witch is taking what is hers; she's claiming her desired hearts, those hearts which are filled with pain and grief. And I'm the last one who's still alive, in a great deal of pain because of losing my closest friends and I know tonight…" her voice was trembling with fear and grief, "… she's going to take me away."

Sam got up and sat beside her. Wrapping a comforting arm around her quivering shoulders, he hugged her. "Brenda…"

Before he could say anything else, Brenda hugged him back tight and wept on his chest. "I don't want to die, Sam. I don't wanna die. I know I deserve it but… but… we didn't know that would happen. Please save me, Sam, I don't want to die…"

Sam hugged her tightly and rested his chin on the top of her head. His own eyes were filling with pain and grief. He knew how it felt to lose someone so close to one's heart. But he wouldn't let anyone else die if he could help it. He would save this girl no matter what.

"It's alright, Brenda. Don't worry; I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

When he felt Brenda's hesitant nod against his chest, he fished his cell phone out of his jacket's pocket and pressed the speed dial one.

"_Hey Sammy?"_

"Dean, I got a lead on the hunt."

* * *

**TBC**

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**Would you like to read a bonus chapter? **


	4. Chapter 4

_**So, here is the bonus chapter.**_

_**Warning:- Inappropriate use of foreign language and swearing. **_

* * *

**Chapter- 4**

* * *

Dean was beyond pissed. He was fuming inside and out. He gritted between clenched teeth, "Now I understand why I don't like teenagers. Because they're…" Spinning on his heel he bent, grabbed the arm of the couch where Brenda was sitting and screamed "…BRAINLESS."

Brenda flinched at the sight of the furious older brother. She had already begun to dislike him. Sam's big brother was scary whereas the little brother was the complete opposite in nature. Sam was calm and soft, where Dean was angry as an erupted volcano and hard as steel.

Sam got up from the nearby chair, grabbed Dean by the shoulder and moved him away from the stricken girl.

"Dean, calm down."

"CALM DOWN?" Dean flung his arm up in the air. "DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE AND HER FREAK FRIENDS HAVE DONE?"

Before Sam could say anything further, the girl got up and started to cry. Tears were streaming down her blotchy cheeks like a miniature torrent. "I DO, you know, I do. I know what we've done and I swear to God, if I could reverse it, I would've done it without a second thought." Wiping her face with her shirt sleeve, she sniffled. "I've lost all of my friends. I've lost everything. Everything."

Sam swallowed; understanding perfectly what she meant by everything. He could feel her pain because the situation with him and Jess was still fresh in his mind. Dean couldn't blame this poor girl; if he did, then he should blame Sam too for Jess's death. He should have told her everything, should have warned her when he had gotten those omens in his nightmares.

"Dean please, just shut up." Sam scolded him softly and turned to the girl. "Did you bring the witchcraft book?"

"Yes, I did." Brenda opened the zipper of her vanity bag and pulled out a heavily bound gold-and-black colored book. "Here it is."

Sam took it from her and opened the front page. The book was written in a foreign language that the brothers had never seen before. The pages were thick and the words seemed to be embedded into the paper.

Dean tilted his neck awkwardly towards the book and frowned.

"What the hell is that pag…paga…'_Paganesimo __in __Provenza'_?"

"It's an Italian witchcraft." Brenda responded softly while keeping a nervous eye on both brothers. "Our friend Molly knew the language and her great grandmother was originally from Italy. She knew witchcraft and Molly inherited this from her." Seeing the neutral look from one brother and a very pissed off expression from the other, she swallowed and licked her parched lips. "Only she could read this stuff, she was the one who summoned that thing."

"Oh great, now we…"

Before Dean could finish his anger-filled ramblings, Sam stopped him mid-sentence and assured the girl. "We'll find the way to get rid of this thing. Don't worry; we won't let anything happen to you." Sincerely nodding at the panic stricken girl, Sam booted up the laptop and began googling- _**'La Quorra'**_.

* * *

It was around midnight. The whole town was sleeping; only the constant splattering of rainfall was trying to break the strong silence of the night. There was no one in this deserted part of the town- the Peace on Earth Cemetery; except a woman wearing a long raincoat wandering nervously around the perimeter; her ragged breaths and squeaking sound of her shoes on the muddy ground the only noise breaking the peaceful silence of the holy ground.

Brenda was trembling, both in fear and cold. She had never faced something like this. She had been waiting for the witch to show up, as in, she was waiting for the invitation for the supernatural being to come to her and finish the job.

Tightening the coat around her torso, Brenda started to walk slowly toward the abandoned barn. Her conscience was telling her to leave that place immediately, but she knew; it was the only chance for her to live or die. If she left right now, no one on the earth would able to save her from the oncoming death.

Suddenly she felt someone's presence behind her and as she inhaled, her breath condensed. Quickly turning around, she saw what she'd been expecting to see.

It was Peter, standing right behind her.

"Oh my God."

Without wasting another precious moment, she ran blindingly towards the barn. She didn't dare to look behind her because she knew the ghost or whatever it was, was still following her.

"Brreenda, waaiitt…" The ghost's slightly trembling and mischievous voice drifted from behind her and that was enough to send a chill down her already freezing spine.

Brenda did not know how she managed to stumble into the old barn. The supernatural being was just behind her, trying to grab her as she attempted to evade its touch. Its fingers were almost brushing her sleeve when she felt a pair of strong hands grab her beneath the armpits and pull her away from its grasp.

As Dean hauled Brenda from the witch's clutch, they saw it become stuck inside the _chee-mah-roo-tah_ symbol, a binding symbol with which a witch or pagan-god could be captured. Aiming his silver-loaded pistol towards the captured witch, Dean shouted at his brother.

"SAM, NOW."

Sam was standing behind the trapped entity, holding the Witchcraft book in his hands. As soon as Dean gave him the green light, he started chanting the exorcism immediately.

"_Un giorno d'ira__,__quel giorno__, __Scioglierà il__mondo__in__cenere__. __Testimone__Satana__,__e la__Sibilla__.__Quanto è grande__un terrore__ci__sarà__, __Quando__è__il__vendicatore__di__venire…"_

Before Sam could finish reading the banishing spell, he felt something haul him off the ground and throw him at the opposite wall of the barn. His vision grayed at the edges as he hit the wall hard. The book flew from his grasp and fell somewhere out of sight as his battered body crumpled onto the dusty ground.

"SAMMY!"

* * *

Dean watched in horror as the witch tossed his brother aside like a rag doll. He aimed his gun, but before he could pull the trigger, he also felt himself being levitated and then thrown across the barn. Luckily he landed on a thick stack of hay but his relief was momentary. His breath was forced from his lungs in a loud 'oomph' as a flying Brenda also landed on his already sore body.

The witch had morphed into its original shell _and boy_, she was beautiful. She was wearing a strange medieval type of black and red clothes which looked really gorgeous on her. Dean had never seen a witch like that. He had always had this thought that they were all equal to ugly-rotten teeth-old ladies, but this one was… _**'If she hasn't been a bitch, umm, I mean witch; I would have…'**_ Dean was thinking, but his musings were cut short as the witch flung one arm towards the ceiling and the symbol cracked from its edge almost immediately.

"Silly humans…" her voice was eerily melodious but a little nasal which was making the situation much creepier. Dean weakly pushed Brenda off his body and tried to find his gun as the witch advanced towards them. "…you fools think you can beat something like me that easy." Her bare feet were hardly touching the ground as she kept strolling towards her prey. "I'm getting stronger. The more tormented hearts I have, the more powerful I'll become."

As the witch tried to touch the panic-stricken girl, Dean swiftly picked up the fallen gun from the ground and shot directly to her chest. As the silver bullet hit the bull's eye, the witch faltered a little and backed off from the girl.

"Sciocco umano…" The dangerous witch left the girl and grabbed Dean's biceps hard. "How dare you try to defeat me…" Dean felt as his whole body was being electrocuted as he was touched by the supernatural being. "…I'll take your pain as my essence of survival…I will take your heart…"

It happened all of a sudden. Dean was sure he was going to die, but suddenly someone shoved him hard and he fell away from the entity's grasp.

Dean must have blacked out for a couple of minutes, because when his vision cleared he was he was lying on the floor and a choking sound was coming from somewhere nearby. His eyes went wide when he spotted Sam kneeled in front of the witch. She was bending over him, her hands set firmly on his shoulders and she was whispering something in low voice.

It was Sam who had shoved him and let himself get caught by the witch, Dean realized. He tried to move towards his brother, but the strong force field that the witch now had created around them, did not let him get closer to Sam. He could see Sam's lips were moving, telling him to finish the exorcism.

Dean knew shooting the witch would do nothing but waste time, and time was something he did not have a lot of at this moment. His little brother was in the witch's clutches and he had to save him. He could not lose Sam, not after everything…

Dean quickly picked up the fallen book and ran towards the bowl which they had set on the floor near to hand before they'd started the ceremony. They had already filled it with the necessary ingredients for the banishing ritual. Without wasting another precious moment, he started chanting…

"_Così insolito__,__né__io__mi__recarsi__con__un sottile__, __L'__ala__del__liquido__attraverso i__due__formarono il__cielo…"_

The witch screeched in a high pitch. Dean continued, chanting faster-

"_E__il Sole__di giustizia__;__Sono venuto__e__illumini__coloro che__abitano__nel__buio__, __E__l'ombra__della morte…" _

With that, Dean lit a match and threw it into the bowl.

Suddenly a blinding white light erupted from the witch's body as she burst into searing flame.

* * *

Sam jolted back to his senses as Dean's scream reached his ears. His back was hurting with a vengeance after his collision with the hard wall, and his head swam sickeningly. Blinking in bewilderment for a few seconds, he spotted his big brother in the witch's grasp, and swiftly shook off the effects of his injuries. He did not think twice about what he was going to do now.

Pushing himself to his feet with grunt, Sam ran towards Dean and shoved him hard, tearing the elder Winchester from the witch's hands.

Instantly he felt the ancient woman touched his face with both hands and his vision wavered. A blinding white-hot pain seared through his whole body and suddenly Sam could not find the strength to stand up any more. He dropped to his knees hard enough to leave bruises.

The witch's face was a mere inch away from his own and Sam could hear what she was saying-

"Your pain is so deep, so pure. I can feel your sorrow, your loss." She moved one hand to his chest and placed it right over his heart. "Your heart's broken Sam…"

Sam screamed in extreme agony as her sharp nailed hand pressed hard against his chest wound that had barely been healed yesterday. He could hear Dean chanting something, but he could hardly concentrate on anything at that moment except for the pain.

"_Why did you leave me, Sam?"_

Suddenly a very familiar voice startled Sam and his breath hitched as he saw Jessica standing in front of him instead of the dangerous witch. She was wearing the same outfit that she had been wearing on that night she died.

"No, no, you're not real. You're not real." Sam gasped as the pressure on his chest increased.

"This burden you're carrying Sam, is too much for you." Her soft and cold breath was ghosting over Sam's face. "Let me carry your pain, let me mend your broken heart, Sam. Let me…"

Before she could finish, something happened and she screamed in agony. Suddenly, a bright white light flooded Sam's vision and hit his already defenseless body quite hard. Sam fell onto his side, unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

Dean was panting hard. He could not believe that he'd killed the witch. The job was done, he should have been happy. But something was nagging inside his heart. '_**It was just way too easy. For a dangerous witch like her, it was just too simple to finish her off.**_' But the sight of his little brother falling bonelessly sideways and lying still as death snapped him out of his reverie.

"Sammy?"

Quickly moving towards his fallen brother, Dean knelt beside him and rolled him onto his back.

Dean's heart skipped a bit as he saw a bright red patch on Sam's jacket. "Oh my God." Dean muttered under his breath as he undid Sam's shirt's buttons to reveal the wound. He found thick trails of blood seeping from the claw wounds inflicted by the woman in white, and shook his head in dismay. Sighing, Dean checked him thoroughly for any other injuries, but fortunately; he found none.

"Sam? Wake up." Dean patted his cheek lightly. "C'mon man, its over. The witch's smoked. You can wake up now." Jolting his brother's shoulder, Dean called again; this time, a little louder. "Sammy?"

"Is he okay?"

Dean had almost forgotten about Brenda. Startled, glanced up at young girl crouched down beside him and then looked worriedly at his little brother. Curling an arm arund Sam's body, Dean nodded. "Yeah. He's just a little shaken up. He'll be alright."

As if Sam heard Dean's words, he stirred and his eyelids slowly fluttered open. His slightly glazed and confused eyes scanned the whole surroundings lazily, like he'd been looking for something or someone but did not seem to be finding it.

"Sammy? You okay?"

Sam's head rolled towards his brother's voice and nodded weakly.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Think you can get up?"

"Yeah, help me up."

Grabbing Dean's hand gratefully, Sam gingerly pulled himself to his feet; wincing as his sore muscles protested. He felt Dean's strong arms wrap protectively around his torso as he swayed drunkenly.

"You sure you're okay, Sammy?"

Sam blinked couple of times to clear the haze from his eyes. He wasn't really feeling any pain except the soreness of his body which he hardly cared about. They were hunters for God's sake and getting hurt on a hunt was their standard routine. And this time, they did not even get hurt badly, Sam was just a little banged up was all. The witch hadn't managed to do much harm except for tearing open his previous wound. Pressing a handkerchief to his chest, he nodded reassuringly.

"I'm okay, Dean. Just a little dizzy."

"You look a little pale for my liking." Dean was worried. He wasn't certain that the witch hadn't done any harm to his brother. '_**Sam passed out for Pete's sake**_.' And the bleeding was doing nothing but adding some more worry to his big brother generator. "You sure you're not feeling anything." Something was off, Dean could sense that.

"I'm fine, really. Nothing a couple of painkillers wouldn't cure."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Brenda hesitatingly interrupted.

"I…uh…is it over?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Dean grumbled.

"The witch's dead and you're still alive. I think it's over."

Sensing Dean's still pissed off mood, Brenda swallowed nervously.

"I…thank you for…"

Wrapping his sibling's arm around his shoulder tightly, Dean steered both of them towards the exit.

"You're welcome. Now will you please do us a favor?" Dean mockingly asked the dumbfounded girl. "Please do not summon anymore witches in the future. This isn't a game, Brenda, see what had happened."

"I'm sorry." The girl was crying now.

"Oh c'mon. Now stop crying and come with us. We'll drop you off at your house." With that Dean opened the passenger side door of Impala and helped Sam to get inside the car.

* * *

Dean was driving in silence. His mood was still off. He had dropped Brenda at her house a couple of minutes ago. It was almost three in the morning and his eyes were gettng heavy with exhaustion and sleep deprivition. Stealing a glance towards his little brother who slumped at the passenger side, still pressing the piece of cloth on his chest, Dean muttered angrily.

"That was the dumbest thing you've ever done in your whole life, Sam."

Sam sighed tiredly. Now that was what he'd been expecting to come up, but he was really too exhausted for an upcoming argument,

"Dean, please…"

"No Sam. The witch could have hurt you more than she did. Hell, she could have killed you, dumbass."

"But she didn't. I'm alive and you're alright too."

"Don't try to change the subject Sam." Dean narrowed his eyes in anger and gripped the steering wheel hard. "You should have finished the exorcism, not shove me out of her way and get yourself caught in her freakin' clutches."

Now Sam had had enough. He was tired too, worn out; exhausted as hell and now Dean's super pissy behavior was giving him a headache.

"She was going to kill you, Dean." Sam shouted. Seeing Dean glaring back at him, he gritted his teeth as he continued. "What should I do then, just let you go like I did to Jess?"

"Sam, Jess's death wasn't…"

"Yes, it was. It was my fault. I lied to her, I left her alone when I should have…" Biting his trembling lip, Sam looked away and stared out of the window. It was still raining hard accompanied by a strong wind. "…and," He laughed mirthlessly, "I didn't even go to her funeral Dean." His eyes filled with unshed tears, Dean could see them in the reflection of the window. He was feeling a little guilty for snapping at his already tormented brother. But he was scared, scared of losing his little brother and that fear came out as an anger-fuelled argument from his mouth.

"Sammy, I…"

Sam looked back at him. He was crying now and Dean's heart broke at the sight of his distressed, beloved little brother. He could handle pretty much anything. He could handle killing things, Sam's anger and arguments. Hell, he could even handle Sam leaving him. But not his tears. His brother's tears always used to break the damn barrier of his macho shell. All he wanted at that moment to hug his brother and sooth him until the pains faded away.

But…

"I couldn't stand to see her taken away from me, Dean. I couldn't." Sam sniffled miserably. "I couldn't see her… her body…" Sam was having difficulties uttering those painful words. "…she…her…I…I'm a coward Dean." More tears spilled from Sam's red-rimmed eyes. "I can't handle the truth, Dean. I'm f***ing useless. Dad was right about me, Dean. I'm a f***ing…"

Sighing, Dean pulled the car over near the curv and killed the engine. He knew a major chick-flick moment was coming up next but for Sammy, he could handle anything.

"C'mere." Grasping his brother's shoulders gently, Dean pulled him to his chest. Sam's whole body was shaking, he was crying so hard. He had been holding those painful emotions inside his heart since Jessica died; not allowing anyone to see them. But tonight, after what Jessica told him _**'Why did you leave me Sam';**_ he could not hold this anymore.

Dean's gentle hand was rubbing the back of Sam's head soothingly as his little brother's face buried in the crook of his neck. He knew Sam had been avoiding the funeral, but he did not press him. But something sure had been bothering Sam otherwise the kid wouldn't have broken like this.

"It's okay, Sammy. I'm here. I got ya." Seeing that Sam was calming down, he asked softly. "What happened, Sammy?"

"I saw Jess." Sam's voice slurred as the emotional ourburst and sleep deprivition was taking a toll on him.

"What? Where?"

"In the barn. She…she…" His hand dropped from Dean's shoulder. He was still mumbling incoherently. "I'm…I'm sorry Jess. I…I…"

"It's okay Sam. She's gone." He tenderly patted his now almost sleeping's brother's head, hoping Sam wouldn't remember this hell of a chick flick moment in the morning. Seeing Sam's breathing evened out as he fell asleep, Dean eased him gently off his chest and laid his head on the upholestry.

"It'll be better when you wake up, Sammy." Reassuring his sleeping sibling, Dean once again revved the car engine to life and sped towards their motel.

* * *

Dean woke up at the noise of loud thunder crashing outside their room. Groaning in dismay, he pulled up the covers over his face to muffle the annoying sound. It had been two days since the weather conditions had deteriorated and heavy rainfall accompanied by thunderstorms had still been pounding the town mercilessly.

Yawning loudly, Dean checked his watch. It was showing 5.15 p.m. The brothers had slept throughout the whole day since they entered the motel room and crashed onto their respected beds, without even bothering to get out of their dirty clothes.

Dean didn't have any idea that he slept that long. But he was feeling better after a long good-day sleep. If the thunder had not woken him up, who knew how much longer he would have slumbered.

"Sam, you okay?"

Thunder and lightning had never been a good combination for Sam. So yeah, Dean was a little concerned about his thunderstorm-phobic brother.

Getting no reply, Dean frowned in concern. Sam could never sleep in this loud noise and he had to have been awakened by now. Quickly rolling on his back, he saw the other bed was empty. Throwing the blanker aside, Dean switched on the light and took a quick search in the bathroom and small kitchenette. But there was no sign of his baby brother.

"Sammy where are you?"

There was not even a note on the table. Sam would never go outside to get something in this bad weather unless it was an emergency, and if that was the case, he'd have woken Dean first. Then where did he go?

Dean ran towards the door and opened it. Their room was in front of the parking lot and his baby was still parked outside the door.

"Where has he gone?" Dean swallowed and searched around the whole parking lot but there was still no sign of his brother. He tried to call on his cell phone and it rang, sounding close behind him. Dean turned back to the room, cursing when he found Sam's cell phone resting on the nightstand.

"Where are you Sam? SAM?" Dean screamed but there was still no sign of his little brother.

Sam was gone.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**Am I forgiven now?**


End file.
